


Out of Love or Loneliness

by ErinNovelist



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Eventual Romance, Friendship, Love Confessions, M/M, Third Gym (Haikyuu!!)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24791980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinNovelist/pseuds/ErinNovelist
Summary: If he closes his eyes, Tsukki can pretend that he’s back in Sendai, back home where he’s full of certainty, where he can convince himself that this is just a game and these players don’t mean anything.But then there's Akaashi, who throws a wrench in his plans.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 3
Kudos: 92





	Out of Love or Loneliness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [annuchii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annuchii/gifts).



i.

Nights are supposed to be quiet.

Tsukki grows up plastered against the grey shingles of a roof, staring at dark skies and pinpricks of stars, while the moon hangs heavy overhead. It’s the gentle breeze through the hills of Sendai, the buzzing lullaby of insects in the late summer air, the scent of rain-water grass and maple leaves tickling his nose as he drifts off to sleep. Night is peace.

Tokyo is loud, too bright, no stars or nightlife to lull him to dreams. Instead, the city and Gym 3 are filled with the taste of grit on the roof of his mouth, red-blistered hands slamming onto burning leather, and sweat-squeaky shoes against maple wood floors. Any quiet is just the eye of the storm.

Tsukki doesn’t know how to handle it, even after a few nights slipping into extra practices with Bokuto, Kuroo, and Akaashi. Sometimes Hinata joins him, which causes even more of a headache, and it’s time like these that he needs to step out for a moment and get some space.

Outside is strange, but the breeze kissing pink-dusted cheeks and embracing trembling shoulders is the kind of break he needs. If he closes his eyes, Tsukki can pretend that he’s back in Sendai, back home where he’s full of certainty, where he can convince himself that this is just a game and these players don’t mean  _ anything _ .

“Need some water?” comes the soft voice of the Fukurodani setter. He holds out a black bottle, eyes burning something fierce.

Tsukki accepts it, murmuring a thanks and sits down on the concrete steps and stares at the sky. There’s a shuffle beside him as Akaashi joins him, and both are soon lost in the quiet of the night, even as laughter and pounding feet echoes in the gym behind them.

ii.

_ Hey, hey, hey! _ comes Kuroo’s text after the game against Shiratorizawa in the Gym 3 group chat.  _ See you again in Tokyo! _

Bokuto’s message chimes in soon after.  _ I can’t believe I beat Ushiwaka! _

The two third-years riff off one another, even though they have their own game against each other burning low on the horizon like a looming sunset. In all the chaos of today, swept up in the excitement of broken bones and broken blocks, the exhaustion hangs heavy on Tsukki, and all he wants to do in sleep.

So he simply rolls his eyes and shakes his head, turns off his phone without sending a proper response, and falls into a restful slumber as the bus rolls through the hillsides of Sendai as they head home.

When he wakes later that evening, there’s a new message waiting for him from Akaashi.  _ Nice block _ , it reads—simple and sweet in all the ways that Tsukki knows him to be.

He can’t fight the small smile that stretches across his face—isn’t even sure  _ why _ it’s there. But he still texts back,  _ Thanks _ .

Simple and sweet, but still says more than Tsukki can ever believe.

iii.

“Captain looks good on you,” are the first words that Tsukki manages when he sees Akaashi at the summer training camp.

Yamaguchi nudges Tsukki’s side with his elbow and looks  _ entirely _ too pleased with himself while Akaashi rubs the back of his neck and quietly thanks him.

It’s different this year—new players, old memories, and ghosts that Tsukki wishes he could exorcise from the walls of Gym 3 when night strikes. Akaashi joins him on the steps outside Gym 3 as Tsukki looks in at a group of players from Ubugawa, volleyball tucked under his arm, and a part of Tsukki expects Kuroo and Bokuto to stumble up behind them.

“Want to practice elsewhere?” Akaashi asks, gesturing towards the side of the building, but all Tsukki can think of is the sweat building on the crown of his head, the humidity lingering like a thick fog around them, and shakes his head.

“Not worth it,” Tsukki says, so the two find themselves atop the hill outside the gyms, lounging in the dewy grass and staring at the night sky. They talk about everything outside of volleyball—about how Bokuto and Kuroo are faring in the professional leagues, about their own uncertain futures, about overbearing siblings and overwhelming teammates, and everything important in-between.

_ It’s funny _ , Tsukki thinks as he looks at the pinpricks of stars above.  _ It’s actually sort of beautiful here _ . But he isn’t sure whether the thought is reserved for the people or the place.

“I’m worried about leading the team,” comes Akaashi’s quiet confession hours later on the tail-end of Tsukki’s laughter. “Without Bokuto.”

Here, Tsukki scoffs. “You’re doing fine on your own.”

“But Bokuto—”

“Why would you want to lead like  _ Bokuto _ ?” Tsukki asks with an air of disbelief. “You’re Akaashi.”

“I know we’re not the same,” Akaashi tells him. “But he was a great player and even better captain. It’s hard to measure up too.”

Tsukki clasps his hands into loose fists against his chest, thinking of bruised palms and busted lips when coming face-to-face to just how great a player Bokuto was, thinking of stepping out of Ushiwaka’s shadow after a blocked spike with the echo of Bokuto’s words through his head. But then he thinks of Akaashi’s solid sets and silent support, the cool press of a water bottle against his hand after a grueling practice, all of this from the same person who built his foundation. 

“Somehow,” Tsukki tells him softly. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that.” 

There’s a short beat of silence, and then Tsukki tilts his head to gauge the Fukurodani setter. Akaashi’s face looks towards the sky, eyes burning low like firelight, and a small smile is blossoming across his face.

Tsukki doesn’t take his eyes off Akaashi and smiles back. (It comes easy this time.)

  
  


iv.

Late in his second year, Tsukki is texting Akaashi when Ennoshita apprehends him after practice. “Captain,” the wing spiker says. “Have you thought about it?”

Tsukki is already shaking his head. “No, absolutely not.” He hasn’t spent two years fighting against the chaos of Kageyama and Hinata combined to suddenly be in charge of it.

Ennoshita laughs at his outright rejection. “Well then do you have a recommendation?”

Tsukki’s grip on his phone tightens, Akaashi’s name flashing across the screen. He thinks of the Fukurodani setter—clinical, succinct, driven, and fire-bright eyes that makes the other teams tremble in fear. He thinks of Akaashi and  _ second place at Nationals _ , and there’s only one other person he knows with the same charisma and gusto that the third-year has.

“Yamaguchi,” he says, but he’s still thinking of Akaashi. “He’ll be a great captain.”

  
  


v.

Tsukki spends the weekend of Akaashi’s graduation in Kuroo and Bokuto’s apartment. The four of them spend all of Saturday celebrating, though for Tsukki, it’s mainly watching Kuroo and Bokuto make fools of themselves with alcohol and streamers while exchanging quiet, smug smiles with Akaashi.

He isn’t sure why he’s here in the first place. Usually, this isn’t his kind of scene, but there’s something about this group of people that reminds him of the peacefulness of home in a way that only Sendai and rooftops ever have. Eventually, the two pass out on the couch, snoring the night away, and Tsukki finds himself on the small balcony with Akaashi, watching Tokyo come to life below them.

“So no more volleyball,” Akaashi announces, bouncing his toe off of the black wrought-iron railing. “Feels weird.”

“It’s not like anything’s going to really change,” Tsukki tells him. He tilts his head back towards the apartment, gesturing with his thumb. “You couldn’t get away from those two idiots if you tried.”

“And you?” Akaashi’s voice turns quiet, a stillness settling over them with a heaviness that reminds Tsukki of broken bones and broken blocks. “Are you easy to get away from?”

Tsukki freezes, his heart leaping into his throat. He swallows thickly, trying to find the right words. “That depends,” he says slowly. “Am I someone you want to leave?”

Akaashi simply stares at him for a moment, the span of a single heartbeat, and then he’s leaning forward and pressing his lips to Tsukki’s. He’s quickly lost in the quaint and quiet of it, the hot puffs of air from Akaashi’s breath tickling the skin of his cheek, and then Tsukki is kissing him back.

It’s slow and careful, the deliberate way they move their lips together. Akaashi’s hand rests on his hip while his own threads through the setter’s messy hair, pulling him close until he can feel his heartbeat through the thin fabric of his shirt.

It’s perfect. It’s home.

(And they pull away, Tsukki rests his forehead against Akaashi’s and finally feels at peace.)

  
  
  



End file.
